Darkness of the day
by MissShellyBabes
Summary: Her life, for lack of a better word, was boring. She travelled the world but she still felt she was missing something. Then she checked into the Hotel Cortez. James/OC
1. Chapter 1

_**Authors note:-**_ _Another day, another story. I've been wanting to write an AHS for quite a while, yet could never really find the inspiration to do so, alas, I've found it while watching AHS re-runs on Tv._

 _This is also being written on my phone until I get my laptop back, so if there's any mistakes, I apologise in advance._

 _ **Disclaimer:-**_ _There's nothing that I own except my OC, whom I've spent hours trying to perfect and this is whom I came up with._

XxX

 _ **June 2015**_

There wasn't much that she really wanted to do with her life. Travel was one of her main fortes in life, but at Twenty-Three years old, her mother said that it was time for her to perhaps settle into a career. She had never really known how to work, since straight out of school, she had jumped on to a plane and flew away from the family she had listened to as they critiqued her appearance, her personality, her life achievements. And now, after an entire year of plane hopping, tasting exotic foods and blending in with the locals, she had found herself back in what called itself 'the land of the free', the atmosphere felt the same, the warm summer sun blaring down on her sleeveless shoulders, the smell mixture of petrol and smog filled her lungs as she shifted her backpack higher on her shoulder. She looked up at the somewhat familiar scenes as she watched the yellow taxi drive past her. Los Angeles hadn't changed a single bit since she was last there, and while she hadn't expected it to change within the year she was gone, she was somewhat disappointed when she realised it hadn't.

She began to walk towards the hotel she had found and booked online, it wouldn't have been her first choice of her budget allowed it, but at the price, she wasn't going to say no.

Smiling at the woman with the crimped hair and the cigarette hanging from her lips, she pushed open the doors and walked inside. The smell was the first thing she noticed, the musky smell of age which didn't surprise her when she saw the old fashioned outlay. A small smile graced her deep red painted lips as she moved further into the building; making eye contact with the aging woman with the horned rimmed glasses and gave a small nod.

"What can I help you with?," The lazy drawl came from the older woman's lips.

Again shifting her backpack up her shoulder, the younger woman gave another smile, "Yes, I've made a booking for one of your rooms. Emmaline Tyler. I made the booking online," She explained, watching the woman slowly look through her guest book before turning around and picking out a key from the pigeon hole.

"Room 67. You were booked in for room 64 but we've had to make some rearrangements due to a special guest staying in the hotel," The woman explained, "The owner said that if you have a problem with the room, the owner has said to feel free to bring it up with _him_ "

Emmaline nodded slowly, listening to the woman's words. The feeling of uneasiness flowing through her stomach as she cautiously took the key off the counter, "I'll be sure to remember that. Thank you,"

The woman reached over and rang the bell on the counter; moments later a man with a shaved head wearing woman's clothing and make-up walked out from a side room, "Liz will show you your room,"

The man lead her through an array of hallways and stairs before coming to a halt before a wooden door which showed the room number in gold lettering. The man waited for a moment as Emmalime dug through her denim short pockets, trying to find where she left her cash.

"Just a sec-," She mumbled in an embarrassed tone as she pulled her backpack off her shoulder and opened it up, pulling out a small handful of dollar bills and passed them over to him, "Thank you" She smiles as she pushed her backpack on her shoulder and put her key into the keyhole, pushing open the door.

The room was simple. A large double bed, a television which she soon realised only had two working channels, a chest of draws and a bathroom off to the side. She threw her backpack down on to her bed and let out a long sigh. The feeling of unnervousness still flowed through her body, the feeling that she was being constantly watched. Deciding to look around the hotel, she left her bag on the bed, only taking out a few notes and leaving the room.

She never noticed the man in the suspenders with the moustache following her down the empty hallway, almost watching her step for step behind her; observing the way she dresses, the way she walked, the colour of her hair; her posture told him that she was defeated, she was tired, and she so desperately needed to sleep.

Forever?

He hasn't gotten that far, because she soon turned around and stared at the exact spot he had been standing. She was troubled and he saw that within the first moments he had seen her entering the hotel.

Emmaline found herself very quickly at the bar/dining area, noting that the same man ho had helped her find her room, was also serving behind the bar.

 _Liz._

She had quickly recalled the name as she sat a few seats down from a dark haired man who was speaking with the man.

"What can I get for you?," He asked her, throwing a dish cloth onto the bar.

Emmaline looked at the variety of spirits on the shelves, she decided to settle with a White Wine Spritzer.

With her drink settled in front of her, she soon learnt of the mans man who was seated next to her; John.

He was married, soon to be divorced of his wife had her way, and was an ex police officer.

"So what about you? What do you do with yourself?" He asked, noticing the small shrug Emmaline gave in response.

She took a sip of her wine, "I travelled around the world for a while. Got my feet dirty. I'm her for a week and then I'll fly home to New York to hopefully settle down a bit. Well, that's what my Mom would like me to do anyway,"

"You don't want too?" John offered.

Emmaline shook her head, "No way, travelings way too much fun. The things you see, the people you meet…it's refreshing," She breathed as she ordered herself another wine.

John slid off his barstool and leant closer to Emmaline, and in a hushed tone, he warned; "Keep your eyes open here," He mumbled before bidding goodnight and making his way down the stairs.

"Strange man," She mumbled into her wine as she took another long sip of it.

Liz walked over and stood in front of her, "He's right you know. This hotel is known for its-" He seemed to struggle with the words for a moment, "Anomalies" He finished.

Emmaline slid off her chair, she was somewhat happy that her gut instinct hadn't failed her and wondered if perhaps she should pack her bag and leave. Instead she gave the bar tender a smile, "I'll keep that in mind. Goodnight," She offered as she moved away from the bar. Smiling at the man leaning against the bannister and leaving the area for the night.

Liz looked over at James March, the mans brown eyes never leaving the younger woman as she left through a door.

"She's hiding something," Liz commented.

James turned around and smiled at the other man, not a word escaping his lips. He knew what he was going to do, what his mind and body craved him to do; but instead he only found himself observing the younger woman, wondering what could cause a woman her age to seem so old yet so young at the same time.

 _Soon._

He promised himself. Soon she'll be just another ghost in this hotel, doomed to spend all of eternity bathed in blood and pain. Just like the rest of them.


	2. Chapter 2

Authors note:- Wow, thank you all so much for your reviews, your follows and your favourites; I can't get over how many people actually like this story even though I've only shown the first chapter.

Anyway, here's the next chapter you have all been waiting for. Enjoy.

XxX

Sleep never came easy for Emmaline, it was made even harder with the feeling that she was constantly watched. Whether she was watching television or sitting on her bed silently reading; the feeling of hairs pricking on the back of her neck never really left her. At night, when her eyes were slowly drooping to kill her into a blissful sleep, a part of her swore she could feel someone rubbing her hair, running their fingers down her face, and ultimately clasping around her throat.

The effect was imminent, she had bolted upright, her breathing ragged as she tried to catch her breath. The pressure around her throat only slightly relieving. She stood up from her bed and pulled out her cell phone, cursing at whoever was listening once she saw that her reception was practically non existent in the ancient building. She left her room in a hurry, entering the illuminated hall to see the woman she had smiled at the previous day leaning on the door opposite her own.

"Rough sleep?," She asked Emmaline. A long white chain of smoke escaped her lips and fell into Emmaline's face, making her brush it away with her hand.

Looking back at the room behind her, she looked back at the woman, "Um, y-yeah. Something like that," She moved slightly to the side and began walking down the hall, her phone still in her hand as she held it up to the roof, trying to find anywhere which held any sort of reception. Behind her, she could hear footsteps, the gentle patter against the carpeted floors, footsteps she knew weren't hers.

She spun around to see the same woman following her, taking a long drag of her cigarette and smiling at the younger woman; "You shouldn't be walking these halls at night. You never know who's out there…or what?" She smiled at the younger woman.

"Are you following me?," Emmaline asked, watching the woman with narrowed eyes.

The woman smiled, "My names Sally. And who might you be?" She held out her hand.

Emmaline just stared at the hand and narrowed her eyes further, "Are. You. Following. Me?"

Sally dropped the butt of her cigarette on the floor and stomped it out with her boot, "Don't flatter yourself dear. I'm just making conversation with someone who clearly looks freaked out of her mind,"

Emmaline shook her head, "I can't deal with this right now," She mumbled as she turned on her heel and crashed straight into someone's broad chest.

She looked up to see a man, older then she was with a moustache and brown eyes which brought the sinking feeling back into her stomach, "I-I'm sorry, I need to go," She went to move around him but he held out his arm.

"You look a bit flustered. How about we go down to the bar and have a drink?" He smiled at her.

In any other circumstance, she would have accepted; perhaps even flirted with the man with the English accent and the old fashioned attire; but tonight, she couldn't find her stomach to do so.

"Im just going for a walk. Need to clear my head,"

"Sometimes, talking about your problems helps them," Sally piped up from behind her, "You seem to have a lot of those"

Emmaline turned to face the kink haired women; "Excuse me?" She exclaimed, shaking her head in disbelief she turned back to the man, "Sorry but, I should really go"

The man held out his arm, stopping Emmaline from moving past him, "Nonsense. This hotel is excellent for exploring at night. Simply to die for,"

The uneasy feeling returned to Emmaline's stomach. She wasn't sure if it was due to the lack of food in her stomach, or the glint in the mans eye, she couldn't bring herself to say yes; she needed to get out of this hotel.

Sensing her shift in demeanour, the man stepped closer, "Really. I insist,"

A sharp pain in her neck forced her to turn around and look at Sally, a sad smile on her face, "I'm sorry," She said, a small amount of sadness echoing through her voice.

"Wha-," Emmaline tried to swallow her now dry mouth, her words slightly slurring as she felt her knees buckle, "What have you done?"

The man caught her and smiled, "Now, how about that drink?" Were the last words she heard before falling into unconsciousness.

XxX

Music.

That was all she could hear. Her chest felt right, her hands wrapped tightly with zip wire. She was trapped.

When she opened her eyes, she found herself seated in front of a large table filled with mouth watering foods of all varieties, her eyes lifted higher, and there she saw the same man from earlier; except he was now wearing a black dinner jacket and drinking a glass of whiskey. He smiled at her as she tried to get her hands out of the ties.

"Help!," She screamed as loud as her throat could allow, "Help me please! Somebody!," The man had stood up and walked over to her, he placed his glass on the table and stood beside her. His hand ran through her hair and down the side of her face; much the way she felt when she was back in her room.

"Wh-who are you?," She asked, her voice wavering as a tear fell down her cheek.

"James P March. No need to ask who you are Emmaline," James said, moving behind her and placing his hands on the back of her chair.

Emmaline looked down, stiffening as his hands ran over her bare shoulders, "What do you want from me?,"

"I built this hotel," He began, completely ignoring Emmaline's question, "I built it from scratch. I know every room, every nook and cranny, every square inch," He moved her head to face him, "I've built the perfect murder house" He smiled at her.

Emmaline's heart began to race as she once again tried to move out of her ties, her hands beginning to ache. She bowed her head, letting her hair fall into her face; "Are you going to kill me?"

James laughed a loud and hearty laugh before picking up his drink and taking a small sip, "Not yet. No. There's something about you. Something interesting. And I want to know what it is,"

"There's nothing interesting about me, I travelled, that's it," Emmaline said, her voice going thick and tears welling up in her eyes.

James came to sit down next to her; "Prey tell, what did you do on these travels? What did you see?" He lent closely and looked into her eyes, "What did you see that was so bad that you can't sleep at night?"


	3. Chapter 3

Authors note:- thank you all once again for your reviews/favourites/follows.

Enjoy!

XxXxX

August 2014

Emmaline reached into the depths of her large rucksack to pull out a simple pair of pink sunglasses. The South African sun blaring down on her pale sin, making her face turn red and her body even redder. She lifted an arm and wiped the sweat off her forehead, turning her head when she saw an ageing man standing next to her, a large brimmed hat and his own rucksack tightly clasped around his chest. She shot him a smile and took a drink from her canister; "They told me it was going to be hot here, I didn't realise just how hot," She jokes lightly to the man.

He smiled at her, the lines around his eyes becoming deeper, "It does cool down the further into the rainforest you get," He explained, "It's my 4th time. Figured that it might be time to give this one last hurrah before I retire," He turned to her and held out his hand, "Christopher," He introduced.

Emmaline grasped his hand tightly, enjoying the softness of his skin, "Retire? You can't be more then forty," She smiled making the older man chuckle.

They both looked over as their guides began shouting for them to get ready. Struggling with her backpack, Christopher moved behind her and helped her move it on to her back; "Better?" He asked her.

"Thanks," She smiled, wiping her sweaty palms onto her shorts.

They began walking with a small group of people. The large trees suddenly blocking out the sun from her skin, forcing goosebumps to rise where there was swear, instantly cooling her down. To her right and just in front of her, two men were laughing and joking around, beside her there was a blonde woman showing, whom Emmaline assumed was her husband, something in the trees.

"So you out here alone?" Christopher suddenly asked, wiping a bead of sweat from his cheek.

Emmaline nodded, a strand of her hair falling from her hair tie, "Yeah. Needed to get away. Get my feet dirty before settling down to normal life," She laughed.

Christopher pointed into the trees as he watched a small figure swing from branch to branch; he nudged Emmaline gently and showed her, watching the smile light up in her eyes.

XxXxXx

"It's so beautiful out here," Emmaline commented that night when the camp was set up. She lay in her hammock as it gently swung from side to side. The guides were off in the background, pointing at something and speaking in loud tones. Yet she couldn't understand what they were saying.

Christopher nodded in agreement as he came to a stand next to her, watching at the two men sat around the campfire with the blonde haired woman; "I'll never get sick of coming out here. It gives you all the time in the world to think," He replied, He turned to Emmaline, "What do you want out of life?" He asked her.

Emmaline rose an eyebrow at him, "Bit personal," She commented lightly.

"Amuse a dying man," He retorted.

Emmaline looked at him, he didn't look sick, nor did he look dying, but she accepted his words anyhow, "I'm sorry," She said gently.

Christopher shrugged his shoulders, "Everyone's gotta die sometime. Some earlier then others,"

Then there was shouting and screaming.

XxXxXx

June 2015

Emmaline looked over at James who watched her with curious eyes; "We were overrun by a militant group, the men were killed and the women were raped. We escaped, we went to the police but, I doubt anything ever came of it. I wanted to come back to America, so badly, but I couldn't find my mind too,"

"But you survived. The strongest human instinct is to survive," James commented, walking around Emmaline and reaching over the table, pulling a knife off the table.

Emmaline's heart swelled as she pulled at her wrist ties once again, "Please don't," She begged.

"Did you beg for your life when you were kidnapped?" James asked, bringing the knife around her shoulders.

Emmaline's lip trembled as she felt the coolness of the blade touch the back of her neck, "Y-yes," She breathed out.

James smiles as he moved the chair back, spinning it and facing Emmaline. He crouched in front of her and touched her face with a gentle caress, "I think you might die here,"

A loud sob escaped from Emmaline's lips as her head fell forward, her stomach heaving as she thought about what may happen.

"Please don't. I have a family, they'll come looking for me. They know I'm here," She reasoned.

James let out a laugh and stood up, "You think you're the first person I've done this too? Hundreds of people used to pass through these halls. Not everyone has left," He smiled, taking a drink. He put his glass down and placed the knife in between his finger and thumb, rubbing the blade lovingly, "I think I like you Emmaline, I think I might keep you," He smiled, moving closer to Emmaline.

Her eyes were red, her face was blotched, she looked up at him through weary eyes, "Like a…pet?" She breathed, her chest hurting.

James shook his head, "No. Not like a pet," He grinned. He moved back around her, placing a light, almost a whisper of a kiss on her cheek, "I think I'll keep you forever," He whispered as he brought the knife swiftly across her throat; moving out the way as soon as the blood began spitting from her neck. He watched with a sickening glee in his eyes as her night clothes soon became a scarlet colour, the floor in front of her began to turn into a scarlet pool. He took another sip of his drink and moved her head back, seeing the once grey shining eyes quickly become dull and dead.

XxXxXxX

Emmaline, however, woke the next morning; her breathing ragged, her head spinning. She slowly sat up and looked around.

Nothing had changed.

She closed her eyes for a moment before laying back down. Her arm falling over her eyes, she swallowed deeply and sighed.

She was okay. She was alive. She smiled gently to herself as she opened her eyes and sat up once again.

She stood up and walked to the bathroom, picking up her phone and walking inside with it. She closed the door and looked at herself in the mirror; she looked pale. Sick almost.

But what made her let out a shrieking scream was when she saw the long scar running from ear to ear across her throat.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Author's Note:**_ 3 Chapters in, and I can't get over how many reviews this has already gotten. Thank you all so much!  
Enjoy this next chapter.

* * *

Emmaline felt herself beginning to hyperventilate as she felt around her neck at the scar which had formed. She looked at it closer in the mirror as she saw the reddening against her skin which had now turned a much paler colour. She swallowed deeply as she felt her hands begin to shake. There was a knock on her bedroom door which she quickly moved to open. Standing in the doorway was the red haired woman whom she had seen the previous night in Mr March's room. She felt her stomach churn, her head spin as she remembered the previous nights events; "Please help me. I-I don't know what's going on," She begged the older woman.

The red haired woman smiled gently, not saying a word but sitting Emmaline softly on the bed. She reached over to her cleaning cart and pulled out a deep green dress, something that Emmaline wouldn't wear in a million years.  
"No, no. You don't understand, something happened last night. Oh god I need to get out of here," Emmaline moved from the bed but was soon once again pushed down on to the bed.

The red haired woman smiled and began undressing her, "I understand perfectly. Now, you need to stay still for this. I wouldn't want to hurt you now," She explained, pulling the shirt over her head and her shorts down by the floor. Leaving them in a pool by her feet.

"What-what's happening?" Emmaline asked, tears falling down her cheeks.

Mrs. Evers gave her another smile as she pulled the younger woman up from the bed and pulled the dress over her head. It clung to her curves and fell to the floor. The shine of the dress flickered from the the dim lights of the room; "Mr. March has taken to you quite quickly. The last time he was this fond of someone was when he was-," The older woman cut herself off before starting to hem the younger woman's dress so it didn't gather around her feet as much.

"When he what?" Emmaline asked.

Mrs. Evers kept her lips pursed as she continued to fix the dress. Emmaline moved away from her, her tears now dry, "What the hell is going on? What's happened to me?!"

The red haired woman stood up straight and looked at Emmaline straight in her eyes, "You're dead. Dear," She explained gently.

It was as though Emmaline's chest was about to explode, "But-but I'm alive. I'm breathing. I'm talking!," She moved away and shook her head, "This has-has to be a-a bad trip or-or something. I'm not dead. I'm breathing!," She exclaimed.

Mrs Evers looked softly at the woman, "Are you?"

That sentence made Emmaline stop for a moment. She turned to the other woman and felt her chest. It was rising and falling, "I'm alive," She said with more determination.

"Your chest might be rising and falling, doesn't mean any breath is in your lungs. You've been doing it your whole life, of course you're going to suffer some reflexes when you've passed. Now, if you could please stay still, Mr. March wants you looking your best," Mrs Evers resumed tidying her dress.

Emmaline tried to focus on her breathing. She tried to focus on the feeling of what it was like to breathe, "I'm not breathing," She whispered after a moment, "How am I walking? And talking? How am I still here?"

"When you die here, you're stuck here. Forever. Just be grateful it was Mr. March and not someone else who killed you. At least Mr. March will look after you," Mrs. Evers stated simply.

Emmaline waited until Mrs. Evers was finished with the dress before speaking, "Why did he kill me? I did nothing to deserve this," She said quietly, "I had a family. A life. Will they ever know what's happened to me?"

Mrs. Evers gave her a quick look up and down; "I'm sure he'll be waiting to see you now," She smiled at the brunette woman in front of her.

* * *

"You look beautiful," James smiled at Emmaline as she sat at the same table, _in the same chair_ which she had been just 24 hours earlier.

The woman looked at the ghost in front of her, watching as he rose a toast to her. She sat quietly with her hands in her lap; now that she was physically aware that she wasn't actually breathing, she found it hard to stop her chest from rising and falling; it was as if she was trying to remind herself that she was no longer alive.  
 _Alive_.  
It was a word that was so common in the English language, yet no one actually knew what it meant until you're now dead and that word no longer applies to you.

Emmaline gave a small smile but didn't reply. James' smile faltered as he placed his drink down, "You were much more chatty when I was preparing to kill you. Now that you're dead you barely say a word,"

"Why did you kill me?"

James gave a hearty smile, "Because I found you interesting. I find you appealing in so many ways," He eyed her up and down, "I have a few rules, however," He smiled at her as he stood up and walked over to her, "Once a month, you are not to come into this room. You'll know when that time is, don't worry about that. You're at my disposal, to do as I please," He leant down next to her ear, " _anything_ I please," He whispered to her, sending chills down the younger woman's spine, "Do you understand me?"

Emmaline turned her head and looked him in his eyes. The eyes which looked like they were black as black could be. If she was religious, she would swear that she was looking into the eyes of the devil himself.  
 _Dancing with the Devil again Emmaline._  
His lips were slightly parted as he moved closer to her, she could see every last eyelash on his eyes, she could smell whiskey on his mouth as she inventively moved closer to him. It was as though he was pulling her in, attracting him in what she saw was pure evil.  
 _Could he love her?_

"I understand," She whispered, moving closer to him.

A small smirk graced his lips as he moved down to her, pressing his dead lips against hers in a sign which confirmed their deal. She was his plaything.  
What he was planning to do with her didn't even begin to cross her mind as their lips silently moved together.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Author's Note:**_ _Thank you all so much for your reviews. My updating isn't as quick as I'd like it to be, mainly because I don't want to rush this story like I have numerous others before hand. I'm quite enjoying myself writing it. Plus there's University and being a Mum to contend with._

Anyway, I have chapter outlines up until chapter 10 written, it does get darker as the story progresses, so until I've written out those scenes, I'll keep the rating as it is.  
Enjoy!

* * *

Emmaline sat stiff backed on the plush chair down in the lobby. The eerie silence echoing through her ears as she listened to the Iris scratching her pen across the paper. Her fingers picked at the fabric as she stared at the floor in distain. It had been almost 48 hours since her meeting with James March, since he had rose the knife to her throat and slashed it, she could almost feel the blood trailing down her neck if she really thought about it. She wondered if anyone would even notice her missing.  
Would her mother put up missing flyers?  
Would they come to the hotel to find her there? To see her walking the same halls for all of eternity?  
A long sigh escaped her lips as the lift doors gently opened. Emmaline looked up to see one of the most beautiful women she had ever seen. Her blonde hair was tightly pulled away from her face, her white dress clung to every part of her body as if the dress was perfectly tailored to her every inch; the air around her screamed for attention.

Emmaline continued to stare at the woman as she floated past her, she couldn't say walk, because even then that would be a great misrepresentation of her gait. The woman walked not even two paces past Emmaline before she stopped and turned to look at the brunette woman. Curious eyes found the mysterious woman back tracking slightly to stand in front of her.

"And whom may you be?" The woman asked, watching as Emmaline's eyes slightly widened in response.

Emmaline opened and closed her mouth a few times before finally answering, "E-Emmaline," She stuttered.

The woman knelt down and lifted Emmaline's chin. Examining her face from side to side before seeing the large gash along her neck, "Hm. So you're my Husbands new play thing?" She guessed, gently letting go of the younger woman's face.

"Husband?" Emmaline asked.

The woman chuckled slightly, "Well if we weren't doomed to spend all of eternity together, then I'm sure we wouldn't be married anymore," A small smile crossed the woman's face, "Good luck," She said.

Emmaline, if not being sure otherwise, could have sworn the woman was gazing into the very depths of her soul. Pulling it apart and re-attatching it again. Analyzing every single aspect of her past, present and future; the thought gave her chills, "And uh," Emmaline stood from the chair, "Wh-who are you?" She cursed herself for not having more confidence in her tone, not like she would have liked.

"You can call me Elizabeth," The blonde woman gave another smile before walking away and out the front door, leaving Emmaline staring after her. She turned to her left as she heard Iris coming up behind her.

"You'd best be staying away from her," The aging woman remarked, coming to a halt next to her.

Upon seeing the younger woman's confused face, she clarified, "Because," She leant in closer, "The devil wears many masks," She said pointedly before returning to her place behind the reception desk.

Emmaline stared at the front doors for a moment before walking back towards the large staircase leading to the upper floors. On her way up the dark oak stairs, she passed the dark haired John Lowe. For a brief moment their eyes met, blue meeting grey; the mans eyes narrowed at the younger woman as he watched her cautiously. Her mind reeled in confusion. Did he know about her dying? Was it obvious to everyone around her?

She gave him a tight smile and continued walking up the stairs and up to the bar where she saw James drinking a large glass of what she assumed was scotch.  
"Can people tell?" She asked almost immediately.

The dead man raised an eyebrow at the younger woman, "Pardon?" He asked, taking a long drink from his glass.

"Can people tell that I'm dead?" She sat down in the bar stool next to him, "John Lowe, that cop? He just looked at me like...Like he was wondering what the hell I was. And then there was that blonde haired woman;" She was cut off by James' next words.

"Blonde haired woman?"

"Yeah, her name was Elizabeth. The way she stared at me was like she was looking in the depths of whatever's left of my soul," She drifted off as she remembered the way the woman's brown eyes continued to stare at her, almost as if she was the most fascinating woman in the world.

"Elizabeth..." A smile graced James' face as he stared almost passed Emmaline's shoulder. As if he didn't even realise she was there. A pang of jealousy coursed through Emmaline's veins as she watched the smile on his face.  
She looked down at James' hand, and at that moment realization hit her; "It's you," She commented.

"Hmm?" James seemed to have blinked out of his stupor to look at her.

Emmaline didn't know how she could have been so stupid, of course someone like him would have been married to someone like her. Both almost impossibly beautiful. In that moment, she felt her stomach sink. She didn't know why she was having these thoughts about a man she barely knew, about the man who killed her, but she couldn't bring herself to tell herself not too. She found herself almost begging for his touch, for him to even just look at her and speak to her. Perhaps it was the emotions she felt because he was the one who killed her, a sort of Stockholm syndrome, or perhaps, she reasoned, she was genuinely beginning to feel something for the serial killer.

"You and Elizabeth," She shook her head, "You're her husband,"

James smiled a sarcastic smile at her, "Yes well, 'till death do us part' just seemed like a sick joke between us," He replied, taking a sip from his glass, "Well, with me being dead and her being...the living dead," He smiled, placing a hand on Emmaline's bare leg, "But you, my dear Emmaline," He exclaimed, "You are so much more. You are my beauty, my little play toy to do as I please whenever I please," He moved closer to her, his lips almost to her ear before quickly pulling away; leaving Emmaline almost craving his touch.

"But what am I? Why me?" She called out after him, making the dead man stop in his tracks and stare at her.

James moved closer to Emmaline once again, "Oh my dear dear poor sweet Emmaline. So alone, so lost. Betrayed by the one person she thought actually cared for her. You're going to be so much more then you thought you could be. You're going to prove yourself in a way you never thought possible. You'll see," He grinned, giving her a small wink before walking away from her.

She watched him as he walked away from her and out of sight, a small sigh escaping her lips. She sat back at the bar and watched Liz pour herself a drink, "You want one Hun?" She asked the young brunette woman.

Emmaline shook her head, "No. Nothing tastes the same anymore. I eat and I want to throw it back up again, I drink and if just tastes toxic. Why did he have to kill me?"

Liz shrugged her shoulders, "No idea, but from what I've heard, he has a plan for you. And I'd be weary when it comes to Mister James March,"


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** _ **Long time no hear! I've been so busy with the whole Parenting/University/running around like a headless chicken trying to figure out my daughters passport application, and then trying to deal with a miniture teenager.**_  
 _ **I'm not prepared for this level of sass from a 3 year old.**_  
 _ **Anyways, I absolutely adore each and every single one of you for leaving me a review, adding and alerting this story!**_

 _ **So I hope you all enjoy this update and don't forget to review!**_

* * *

Her stomach clenched tightly as she sat in front of her now captor. James' dark eyes eying the younger woman hungrily as she pushed her food around the white plate.  
Mrs. Evers stood off to the corner next to a push trolley, serving them with immediate hussle as soon as James barked an order at the red haired woman.  
He smiled at the brunette woman as her grey eyes finally lifted from the plate.

"How are you finding the food my dear?," He asked, placing his arms on either side of his own plate, "Is it too hot?" He wondered as he stared down at her barely eaten food, "Too cold? Mrs. Evers, did you even _cook_ her food or are you tying to posion her," He said, coming to the conclusion that something must be wrong with her food.

Emmaline shook her head straight away, a curl falling over her shoulders, "No. No, it's-it's perfect," She looked up at the red haired woman who came to a halt next to her, "It's fine. Thank you," She watched as the older woman went to stand back by the cloth covered trolley.

"Then what's on your mind? Anything I can help with?" James questioned, an eyebrow raised at the younger woman.

Emmaline shook her head and placed her hands on her lap, "I want to leave," She said stubbornly.  
She had spent nights laying in her room, the groans inside the walls keeping her mind awake and active. She wanted to leave.  
No.  
She _needed_ to leave.

She could feel the rooms of the hotel slowly turning her mind, churning it and spitting it out in the form of unjust thoughts. Her mind spun a thousand different ways she could kill the couple in the room next to her who insisted on moaning as loud as they physically thought possible.  
It was like her mind and body craved the bloodlust.  
It was then she decided to leave, try to leave the horrors of the Hotel Cortez behind her.

Something she soon found to be near impossible.  
"Excuse me?" James March's voice quickly brought her back to present time, her grey eyes meeting his brown as she straightened her back, a stance she was taught showed superiority.

"I want to leave. I cant leave on my own accord, so I thought that with your permission-" She was never able to finish that sentence, because before her very eyes James had cleared the table with a swipe of his arm.

" _You want my permissiom to leave?_ " He bellowed, standing up and swiftly moving towards her, his stance threatening and even making Emmaline shrink under his harsh stare; "I give you a _roof_ over your head, _food_ in your stomach, I _dote_ in every way possible to make you comfortable and you want to _leave_?" He questioned, his face turned a slight red-pink colour, making Emmaline see how angry she was making him. His eyes seached hers, making him see the fear in her eyes made a sinister smirk come to his face, "You should know by now, that once you die in here you can't _possibly_ leave," He moved away from her and stood up straight, "You're to be here, with me, for all of eternity," He moved his hand and began to caress her cheek, "Didn't tell you that earlier?"

She felt sick, she felt like she wanted to faint. She was physically and mentally exhausted. She could feel herself going insane; she wasn't sure if it was cabin fever, being stuck in the same four walls day in and day out couldn't be doing anything positive for her mental health, or if was the fact that in the space of three weeks she had died and then come back to life, supposedly a 'play thing' for the hotels dead creator.  
Slowly, she stood from her seat and turned, walking away from the pair without a single word more muttered between them.

The corridors of the hotel seemed longer then usual. The first time she heard say she wasn't allowed to leave, she figured it was because it was something she was on orders to say.  
However, now that she'd tried to leave unsuccessfully and failed; and confirmed from the man himself that she was bound there for the rest of her unnatural life, it felt like every second was spent longer then the next.  
She saw the familiar dark head of John Lowe and watched as his eyes narrowed, "Are you okay?" He asked her.

Emmaline shook her head, "No," Was all she could manage to say, as the thickness in her throat returned.  
She thought she would be okay, she thought she could deal with being dead and walking around like she was alive, but somewhere in the back of her mind, she could feel her walls crumbling. The strong exterior she thought she had built had start to slip.

John looked at the woman and placed his arm around her waist in an attempt to keep her upright, "You look kinda pale," He mentioned, "Come on, lets get you back to your room," He began to lead the brunette back to the room.

"I can't leave," She began whispering, "I can't ever leave," She continued, "I'm stuck here," Two tears fall down her cheeks, "I don't want to be stuck here," She numbly allowed herself to be lead away, her body felt like lead, she was sure she would fall if she was let go anyway. She was grateful John Lowe was there to help her. She was grateful that not everyone was out to kill her.

She looked behind her to see the room which she had just come, her heart momentarily skipped as she saw James March staring back at her, his eyes shining dangerously in the overhead lighting.

* * *

"You've made a right mess of things," She heard as she heard scurrying around her small room, "Never in my entire life of working for him have I seen Mr. March look so angry. Not even when-, " The voice cut itself off.

Emmaline sat up, she was laying in her bed, the blankets covering her body, the gown she was wearing the previous night laying over one of the antique chairs. She looked over at the red haired older woman continued cleaning her room. Emmaline's eyes narrowed as Mrs. Evers continued to place her worn clothing in a large laundry hamper.  
"Wha-what?," She looked around, "What time is it?"

Mrs. Evers stopped what she was doing and looked over at the tired looking woman, a scowl crossing her face; "I don't know what you were playing at last night, but he wasn't impressed. You need to learn to keep those types of thoughts to yourself. He's doing what he can to help you," She stated before resuming her housekeeping duties.

"He _killed_ me," Emmaline replied with a dry expression.

"He's trying to make that up for you. _Can't you see that?"_ Mrs. Evers seemed exasperated, she held the sheet in her hands a little bit too tight, her knuckles turning white, "Any woman back in his day would have _begged_ to be where you are," She mumbled, turning back to her laundry basket.

Emmaline's eyes narrowed slightly, "Like you?" She asked, watching the woman's expression carefully.

paused ever so slightly and continued placing folded towels in the bathroom. When she emerged, she looked at the younger woman who was still underneath the covers, her pink and black bra showing clearly; "Have some decorum about yourself. He wants you to go see him this morning," She swallowed deeply, "I've laid out your clothes in the bathroom. You might need a shower first,"

Emmaline, with her face slightly concerned, followed the maids orders. She wondered if today she was going to be punished, if she was going to be subjected to some humiliating and degrading torture due to her lack of gratefulness for being 'kind' to her.  
The hot water poured down her body as she scrubbed her body clean. The outfit laid out for her were a simple pair of pants and a plain white t-shirt. She gingerly dried herself off and slid the clothing on her body. The hallways were deserted as she walked past the numbered doors, before she knew it, she had met James in the corridor, a smile on his face showed that he was in a good mood, but the darkness in his eyes showed that yes, he was still pissed about the previous night's events.

"Good morning dear," He bent down and placed a light kiss on her cheek, "I hope you have," He cleared his throat, "Re-evaluated our conversation from last night,"

 _Nope_. Her brain said simply. She stood by what she wanted to do. She wanted to be away from the hotel, away from _him_. Physically, she was somewhat attracted to him; mentally however, he made her physically ill. She hated him with what felt like every fiber of her being, "Yes sir," She said simply.

The pair began walking down the corridor, their path twisting and turning as they fell into an awkward silence.  
Soon enough, Emmaline had realised that while she had walked around the hotel many times before, she hadn't ever found herself down this route. She was curious as to what were behind several of the doors.

James held open a strange white door for her, waiting for Emmaline to enter first. The brunette looked around in confusion as Mrs. Evers was loading bloodstained sheets into a large basin, her eyes widened at the sheets and watched as the maid opened a silver laundry chute.

"What's happening? Why-why are we here?" Emmaline couldn't let help but let the fear show through her voice as James approached her.

A smirk on his face, the same smirk as last night, told her that he was punishing her. How? She was yet to find out.  
"Since you seem to be so ungrateful to the generosity I show you; I think you need to know what living in this hotel _without_ those perks is like. As my mother always said, ' _When a child misbehaves, take away it's toys_ '," He smiled as he grabbed her arms and continued to push her towards the chute.

"I am sorry about this," For a moment, Emmaline thought she saw sincerity in his eyes. In that split second, it was gone again. He grabbed her hair and tipped her over the chute, lifting her legs and tipping her down the metal laundry chute.  
He watched her go down before closing it, and turning to who was watching him in silence; "So then, how about lunch?"

Emmaline landed on a single matress with a thud, her arm twisting at an odd angle, making her hiss in pain.  
She looked around at the dark shadows, her stomach clenching as she faught the urge that she was being watched. She looked up at the silver tube she fell down and screamed; "Help me!," She yelled. "Someone, please. Help me!" She stopped when she heard the small sound of shuffling in the shadows.

"Hello?" She called out silently into the shadows. She knelt on the matress, the only light in the dark celler shining down on that object.  
Her breathing sped up as she heard more scuffling, "He-hello?" She called out again.

Her eyes widened and a loud scream pierced the air as she saw the figure hiding in the shadows as it lashed out at her.


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's Note:_ _Thank you all so much fot the reviews, the favourites and the adds; it amazes me how much people are actually enoying the story. I know I don't update as much as I should, but I'm a mum of two very hyperactive toddlers who enjoy running amok. Plus, I'm currently in the middle of packing and preparing to take my oldest daughter to the UK at the end of a month for a holiday._

 _Please don't forget to review and tell me if you like the story!_

Chapter 7

Emmaline could feel her throat burn raw as she continued to scream for help; two stray tears fell down her shaking cheeks as she tried to rub the pain away. The creature, if she could even call it that, stared blankly at her.  
Its skin looked as though it had decayed to the point where she could no longer determine the gender of the beast in front of her. Bones showed easily through its leather like skin, its teeth looking sharper then she had ever seen before.  
The pungent smell of rotting flesh assaulted her senses as she slowly moved backwards, her hands touching the cold wet concrete as she fell backwards, her eyes widening as the creature followed her. Crawling towards her on its hands and knees as if it was a child.

"Please," She whispered as the creature began to sniff her like it was deciding whether or not she was worth the effort.  
Backing away slowly, the creature continued to stare at her, it's eyes looking dead and almost black; it looked as if it had been down here for decades, living off whatever scraps that was thrown down there. It threw her, what she assumed, was a large stick before scurrying away.

Her chest began to tighten as she thought over the events of the past few minutes, the fear in her mind was nothing like she had ever felt before; not even when she was back in that jungle with the gunmen. Not even when they wear tearing at her clothes and hitting her with the butt of their guns. The bile rose in her throat as she covered her mouth, the smell of the room doing nothing to quell the feeling of nausea.

She quickly stood up, dusting off her pants and moved back towards the filthy mattress which she had fallen off, she looked back up at the laundry chute whuch she fell from, "James, please," She begged for her captor, "Please. I'm sorry. I'm so-so sorry. I promise I'll never disobey you. _Please_. Let me out," She cried, the brightness of the chute making her eyes water slightly.

A scream of relief almost escaped from her sore throat as she saw the man appear standing next to the mattress with his hands folded neatly behind his back, a smirk crossing his face. He knew it wouldn't be long before the younger woman submitted to him.  
 _They all submitted to him in the end._

"My dear, sweet Emmaline," He reached out a hand and cupped her face, wiping her wet cheeks with his thumb, he moved his thumb and looked down at the salty liquid with a slight distain "How do I know we won't just end up back here? Disobedience _must_ be punished,"

Emmaline nodded roughly, her brunette hair falling into her face, "I promise. I _swear_ I will never disobey you ever. Please," She whispered with defeat in her voice. She was tired, she was sore, she was emotionally exhausted.

She watched as his dark brown eyes lightened with glee; a wider, almost psychotic, smile grew on his face, "Well, I should hope not. Or it wont be _me_ who deals with you next time,"  
She barely had time to comprehend his words before he had bent down slightly and pressed a longing kiss on her lips. Emmaline didn't want to respond to the dead man in front of her, she wanted to push him away and slap him; she wanted to hurt him like he had been hurting her, but she felt her body react accordingly.

The familliar red hot heat which curled up in her lower stomach had her reaching for her captors suspenders and pushing them off his shoulders, moaning slightly as he pulled her shirt off over her head. She felt him smirk into their kiss, as he picked her up and placed her softly on the matress. She didn't want to think about the blood stains she was laying in, nor the circumstances of which this was happening; but somewhere in the back of her mind it lingered.

As they progressed, Emmaline forgot about the creature sitting in the corner, it's black eyes watching the scene before it with curiosity, a large bloodied bone curled in it's hands, it's mouth filled with the flesh of it's previous victims.


End file.
